


find me (soon please)

by rosehale



Category: Actor RPF, American Actor RPF, Norman Reedus - Fandom
Genre: F/M, I'm so sorry, also i have not the slightest clue where he actually lives, also i've been to new york once when i was seven, but just take it anyway, i am so so sorry, i don't know what this is, if i knew what it was i would tell you honest to god, just take it, norman and ny is a match made in heaven tbh, so if my landmarks and directions are just impossibly wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 13:11:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5049844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosehale/pseuds/rosehale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You pay a visit to Norman in his beloved city.</p>
            </blockquote>





	find me (soon please)

**Author's Note:**

> i've never written something like this before but that poem he read in that one video made me think of this in the middle of the night and now here it is. i am quickly falling down the reedus rabbit hole and i don't regret it. 
> 
> have a good day, smile bright
> 
> peace xx

I follow you to New York. The city welcomes me like a new friend that I'm not sure if I like yet. The buildings rise up like metal fingers, the sky a smoggy grey that looms above, the air tasting as if it will rain any minute. It’s hot, weather that frays nerves and make the streets hazy. The heat radiates off all the concrete, and my t-shirt sticks to my back with sweat as I walk with only one destination in mind, the museums and cultural icons passing by without a second look. People don’t look at me, step around me when I pause in Times Square with the ease of practice, as if I’m a column that’s been standing for as long as they can remember. I blend in. I’m not wearing an 'I heart NY’ shirt, and a too big camera doesn’t dangle from my neck, red apple key rings don't rattle from my backpack. My ratty converse meet the pavement with ease, I don’t whine from the press of people and weather, the city’s hold on me feels more like an uncomfortably warm embrace then a threatening one. I pass central park with its young lovers sprawled on the grass and finally begin to understand your adoration for this city’s streets you’ve paced for so long. I find SoHo, pass people coming down from last night’s high and rich women stepping out from Prada stores, sidestepping the homeless as if they’re a crushed bug. The harshness of the place strikes me, green is scarce and the people seem to be as much a part of the city as the buildings, a presence I can’t escape. I recognize your love for this home of yours, the mix of people is astounding, and the noise never breaks. I can see you stalking the streets, a take away coffee in hand and a baseball hat pulled low over your eyes. You belong here. I see you in every part of it.

Your apartment building is normal enough, it seems to be an old factory, and the sky is beginning to darken when I ring the bell, navy blue spreading across the sky like a shadow, but the crowds don’t thin. The changing light seems to have no effect, the stores are replaced by restaurants, their glow spilling out into the pavement. Your voice crackles from the speaker, a confused ‘Hi, who’s there?’ I press down the button to reply, feel the machine click beneath me, ‘It’s me,’ I reply, but you don’t respond, I only hear the faint movements you make as you leave the phone. I flip the switch on and off a few times, call your name, but your voice doesn’t return, and my stomach churns unpleasantly. I regret that panini for lunch. What if I’m not allowed to come to this city that lives and breathes and is so sacred to you? What if this castle of skyscrapers is a place only for you and you alone, and I am only an unwelcome memory of a time and place that blurs when you are gone from it? The heavy door swings open, revealing a bricked corridor, and suddenly you’re on me and above me and crowding me. Big arms wrap around my tired, hot body, and I’m crushed into your chest. I can feel the worn material of your t-shirt against my cheek, and my nose is pressed into your neck, so I can smell the beer you’ve drunk and the scent of your laundry powder. My fingers curl into your side, and I can feel you shaking, and tears bloom behind my squeezed shut eyelids. ‘Hi,’ you’re saying, mouth at my ear, rocking us gently back and forth, ‘Hi, hi, hi. You’re here. Hi.’ I forget that I am one person for a moment, with you pressed so close, I fantasize that we are one whole, that we are melding together, never to part. The city watches with its yawning windows and leering lifeless apartment blocks, cabs screaming around corners, but I am quiet now, here with you. You don’t seem to want to let go, so we stay there for a while, my being swallowed up whole by your mouth that kisses mine, inhaling my soul to hide safe in your chest. Around us, the city begins to light up as night truly sinks in. The humidity and the tightness of our embrace, combined with your inbuilt furnace, makes me too hot, colour blossoming at my cheeks, and you let me go gently, your eyes feverish with happiness. You take my hand, leading me through the door and into your apartment building, and just like that I am taken into the city, I surrender myself to it and its cycle, but I am not scared, I have nothing to fear, because I have you to guide me to shore and safety.


End file.
